This is gonna take forever. It's a dream that I had a while ago. An unedited draft of what I remembered upon waking. It was inspired by the knowledge of sequel to Day of the Dead by none other than the great George A Romero.
"2-5-05.......
I will try to keep the relation grammatically correct, in terms of tense.
Zombies had very slowly taken over the world (god, that sounds so incredibly stupid). I was living, for some reason, through the eyes of Topher Grace, Eric on "That 70's Show". He and I were synergetic; I experienced everything through him, looking like whichever one of us I felt like viewing at the time. Come to think of it, his presence within me was a more spiritual symbiosis, with a majority of the dream in my first person perspective. "Eric's" red-haired girlfriend, Donna, was there, as well. She and I were living together after the first wave (or five) of walking dead had already risen.
We kept to ourselves, living in abandoned and gutted apartment buildings, located in what I can only describe as the ruins of civilization. The setting was reminiscent of what one might expect from
The Stand, where, when one looks around, all that remains is barely recognizable as what once was. Only the memory of the way things might have looked crept its way into my mind. The grass and shrubbery had overtaken the mass of concrete, steel and glass that was our post-modern human race. It felt more like being in an expansive and naturally occurring park, where the humans were once again the intruders. It was a complete (and refreshing) reversal of the past 13,000 years.
Perhaps I had misjudged, because it appeared that several years passed since the world was at the mercy of Living humans. The first waves had obviously hit quickly and powerfully. It seems mother nature had found the perfect enemy for us: our discarded and forgotten selves, reanimated and hungry.
Anyway, I remember a couple of instances that we came across random survivors, people living in near silence for fear of attracting the non-living. They never made real contact with us. The encounters were akin to what it must be like for the Giant Squid, lurking in the depths, only finding its own kind when it is time to procreate. This was the Afternoon of the Dead, The Evening of the Dead, even: their night, dawn and day had long since passed. All 24 hours now belonged to those that feel no pain and ate devoured Man. It was clear who the new masters of the earth were, whether they were aware of it or not.
We were smartly apprehensive of the Living, for we could be guaranteed of their imminent betrayal upon meeting their end. I've seen "Dawn of the Dead;" I knew that, if anyone besides the two of us were to stick around for any length of time, they would give away our location to their lifeless "companions" after meeting their own end. Whether from illness, injury, or simply being bitten, everyone was going to die eventually. I guess my dream character figured things the same way as veteran soldiers; don't bother getting close to anyone new when you know they have little chance of surviving. Besides, if it was just me and my girl, at least we could be together right up until the end. Because we would have gone into the abyss for each other. It's just a feeling I get thinking about it now. We were Frodo and Sam, inseparable even in death.
Most of the beginning of the dream is just a series of close calls, with me and the Red Amazonian dodging random zombies (Z's), keeping to what was left of Swiss- Cheese rooftops, and hiding from the Living.
The only incident that really sticks in my mind involves apartments or suites of some kind. One half of the building had been blown away, like the remnants of some French village at the close of WWII. The complex itself was built into a green mountain, lush with growth long unimpeded by man. From the top level, we saw some random zombies (it sounds so stupid to use the "Z word") walking around on the ground floor. Just on the edge of the building's remnants was a large cliff. It was obvious that we'd stumbled onto some kind of luxury suites, perhaps even a ritzy hotel.
The Z's were prowling around like they had a mission. These weren't the mindless ghouls I had been taught to expect in such a situation. It was almost as if they could
sense our presence and knew that, if they were to look around long enough, they would find their Living prey. Red and I managed to construct a makeshift bridge with 2x10's and worked our way, ever so silently, to the end of the complex. I can't remember being so nervous in a dream: one small peep, one whisper before reaching the connecting hill, and I
knew we were done for. Something about the Z's behavior was just too....purposeful. While this little snip would have only taken up about five minutes in film or reality, the point was obvious upon my waking. It was an anthropological set-up for what I envisioned later.
On what seemed like a side note at the time, there was another interesting image that sticks in my mind. In "Day of the Dead," there is a great deal of discussion on what to do with the Z problem. One scientist suggested that the Living train Z's to "think" about something other than compulsive eating. He used one, "Bub," to prove his point. The scientist Bub razors and phones to demonstrate that, if distracted, Z's will ignore the pursuit of the Living. What's striking about this is that Bub remembered everyday things: how to use a phone, how to salute, even how to use a pistol.
I saw a clip of Bub in my dream. He was marching an army of Z's, riding a wild horse with a saddle and bridle. They were heading through the omnipresent forest; he didn't speak, but it was obvious that he was in control. Just like the "scouting party" I'd run into at the cliff side ruins, this group was organized, determined, and looking for trouble. Why was Bub, a benevolent figure in a
movie, leading an army of the living dead in my dream?
The next thing I know, Red and I were in a large clearing in the wee hours of the evening. I was able to discern a space roughly twice the size of a football field. There were paths and walkways leading to the clearing on all sides. We had apparently entered from one of the ends. To the right of us, I guess you could call it the west, there were the remnants of a middle class suburban subdivision. I could barely make out the modest ranch-style houses from the thick growth and trees enveloping old brick walls and pathways.
Living People started showing up in the clearing, other survivors that had scratched out an existence out for God knows how long. They acted timid and unsure at first, but before long there were hundreds crowding in. By the time I turned around again, the clearing was well over half filled with people. I kept wondering how so many people could have been drawn to the same place at the same time. First of all, everyone who'd survived as long as we had in a world of Z's would surely know that congregation equaled death. Secondly, I hadn't seen any other live beings up to this point in the dream. They literally came from nowhere. For whatever reason, I had the distinct feeling that this pathetic and sparse group of people was all that was left of the entire race. It couldn't have been true. But with a couple hundred people crowded into such a space, chances were that it was the largest gathering of Live Men in quite a while. It felt like the last time such a gathering would occur.
My questions were immediately answered, as the seemingly natural light around the clearing dissipated. Every pathway into the area faded to black, and the absence of light was immediately replaced by a thousand grumbling and breathy voices. There were Z's everywhere, and they were speaking to one another! A flash of floodlights illuminated the far end of the clearing, where a stage had been erected. I couldn't see too well, but it appeared that there was a Live Man standing on the stage with what I could only assume were prominent Z's, perhaps even Bub. Not only could they talk, but they had become politically organized and had recruited traitors to the Living. This was the part of the dream that really terrified me. The common Z's approached from the edges of the clearing, trying to appear casual yet physically blocking the exits.
The Live ambassador broke out a PA and began speaking of peace with the Z's. His oratory skills impressed me, and it seemed that he really wanted to push a message of hope. The ambassador was faintly reminiscent of James Woods: quick witted, high verbal ability, charismatic, and slightly slimy. He introduced the zombified Ozzy Osbourne as an act of good faith, who immediately began a musical performance. I couldn't help but feel a sense of menace as most of the humans ran for the stage. How did we all get herded into such a vulnerable position, and why were the subordinates still blocking the exits? Why, most importantly, did every Living person, who had spent so much time living in fear, give themselves over so easily to a dead rock icon?
Red and I tried to warn them. Just before the subordinate Z's ambushed, I yelled at the top of my lungs for the people to run for the safety of the housing subdivision. Just further west there was a mountain pass where we could escape and live to run/fight another day. It was to no avail. The Z's tricked us with music and peace, laying in wait for the right time. They halved our numbers with their cold and dead hands, but it wasn't really a slaughter. It was more like a capabilities diagnostic, to see how severely they could dismantle us. They planned to make us slaves, but were just doing a test run to see what they could accomplish "unarmed" against a large group of the Living.
About half of the people did manage to get away and make a break for the brick wall of the housing division. Red and I made it over without too much problem. I only caught a glimpse of the chaos beneath us after climbing over the wall. Try and picture the Z army as a bunch of strung-out junkies, locked in a room with earth's last bag of narcotics. This is the way they acted with the Living, tearing them limb from limb with reckless abandon and superhuman speed. The Living ambassador was saying something about the natural order of things, and that we were all going to become cattle and brood mares.
One Z managed to climb up over the wall just as the Z leaders and Mr. Ambassador were making their way towards the wall. The Z was truly frightening, with a rotten and blue face, devoid of eyeballs and lips. Through the black cave of his mouth, he was screaming for a human to bite
him. He seemed to want to know what pain felt like. He was a newborn immortal, only recently self-aware and whipped up into a frenzy. In his furor, he had forgotten about feasting upon us just long enough to allow escape.
We made our way to the mountain pass on the other side of the subdivision around midnight. It was reminiscent of the Rocky Mountains, or even San Francisco. And then I woke up.
They had turned into what we've always wanted to be: immortal. They'd just done it unknowingly, and in a way we never could have imagined. The Z's didn't ask to be born, if you could call it that. But the fact is that they existed in this dream. Not only did they exist, but they had proven to be the natural progression of human existence. They possessed every characteristic that the Living enjoyed, but with several handy bonuses. A few examples: their dead nerves felt no pain, they could function without limbs, and they had no emotions such as fear to deal with. I never imagined if they could reproduce, but they really didn't need to. Nature had found a way around that problem as well. After all, if they needed to increase their numbers, all they had to do was wait until more Living died away. In the darkness they were legion, a terrifying reflection of the thing we most fear.
Are zombie movies and ideas just reflections on the possible evolution of our species? It would certainly seem that, from a Darwinian standpoint, the zombies of the world prove the "fitter" species. Zombies conquer death by killing. Our natural predators in my dream proved to be ourselves. But none of that really matters since, barring the existence of God, there's no way such a thing could happen. I don't think, anyway..."